The Twelve Days of Christmas
by little miss dracula
Summary: A series of more or less fluffy mini-fics all loosely based around the Christmas song, The Twelve Days of Christmas. All 10/Rose pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I hope you all had a very merry Christmas/a happy Hanukkah/a spiritually fulfilling Equinox/happy holidays/[insert your own here :D] I absolutely love Christmas - it's my absolute favourite time of the year - family, friends, food, wine and lots of potentially relationship threatening board games :D . And there is SNOW in England, so I'm a very happy girl! Anyway, I was talking with my family on Christmas day, and suddenly got an idea for a cute series of ficlets, so here they are! They're very (VERY) loosely (in some cases, like the one below, barely) themed around the '12 Days of Christmas' song, all feature 10/Rose, and all of them are very fluffy, so be warned :D **

**Enjoy, Reader**

**L_M_D**

_On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree._

The Doctor sat in the console room, idly flicking through some books that Rose had picked up on their last trip back to Earth. He sniffed. Paused. Sniffed again. There was a distinct smell of burning permeating the console room of his beloved TARDIS. He sniffed once more. Definitely burning. If he wasn't mistaken, and he usually wasn't, it was burning… _wine_?

The Doctor leaped out of the chair, and sprinted down the TARDIS corridors to the kitchen, his Converse squeaking on the floor as he turned a corner slightly too sharply.

Reaching the kitchen, he was deafened slightly by the excessively loud Christmas music that Rose was playing on the small transistor radio she had brought on board.

"Rose!" he said, loud enough to be heard over Band Aid.

She span around, grinning, and wielding a vegetable peeler like a dangerous weapon.

"Yeah?"

"What on Gallifrey are you burning?"

"Oh bloody hell, the wine!" Rose skidded over to the oven. A pan of what used to be mulled wine sat on top. It had boiled over some time ago, leaving a somewhat less than appetizing sludge of wine and burnt sugar all over the pan and oven top.

The Doctor couldn't help but laugh, especially at the genuinely downcast look on Rose's face.

Well, he couldn't help it until she picked up a wooden spoon from the counter and threw it at him with some force. He dodged out of the way, but it stopped him laughing, at least.

"I was trying this recipe I learnt the other year – me and mum went to this well fancy restaurant for lunch near Christmas, it was a present from Mickey, and we had poached pears in mulled wine. Really boozy but just what you want at Christmas."

"Is it Christmas already?" the Doctor scrunched up his face. He was sure it had been Christmas recently.

"Well… no…" Rose conceded. "But at Christmas we were a bit too busy running around chasing aliens and stuff so I thought we could have a mini Christmas here. I mean, we're not technically anywhere, so it might as well be Christmas…"

The Doctor pulled her into a hug.

"It can be Christmas as often as we want it to be." He smiled softly. "Now, better find another bottle of mulled wine, I think you've decimated the last one."

This time, she did hit him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again lovelies! Here is the second instalment :) Hope you enjoyed the first little ficlet, and hope you enjoy this one too! I think this is super fluffy, but there's something about this time of year that makes me feel and warm and fluffy xD**

**So enjoy :)**

**L_M_D**

"The two turtle doves, they call this place!" the Doctor grinned, holding open the TARDIS door.

"Like the Christmas song?" Rose hummed, smiling as she brushed past the Doctor. He locked the door behind them, asking what she meant.

"Oh it's – never mind…" she trailed off, looking in awe at the view around them. The softest baby blue sand tickled her bare feet; in front of them a sea the colour of snow broke in gentle waves into surf. The apparently endless beach was deserted, despite the gentle heat radiating from the bright sunshine above them.

"It's huge!" she said, almost reverently. The Doctor stood beside her and pointed over the waves.

"Over there," he explained, "you can just about see the other beach. They're completely identical, down to the very last curve. They join, just down there…" he pointed again, this time just to the left of them. "On the very thinnest part. Then they widen around here, where we are now, and taper off slightly on the other side, where the water joins the sea proper. The locals say that from above, they look like two birds touching beaks. And the amazing thing is it's completely natural. One perfect and bizarre freak of nature."

_A bit like you_ Rose laughed inside her head.

"It's beautiful, thank you Doctor."

The rest of the day passed in bliss and laughter. They walked to the thinnest part of the beach, picking up shells and stones, and trying to skim them along the way. After laughing loudly as for the fourth time Rose's stone plonked into the water with a splash, the Doctor taught Rose how to skim a stone properly, standing behind her. It would have seemed like an ordinary thing to do, but the isolation of the beach made it _more_ in a way Rose couldn't quite put her finger on.

The Doctor felt it too, and coughed, before immediately launching into an explanation of the folklore around the twin beaches. He regretted it, since the predominant legend was one of two lovers, faithful until death, who had followed each other through time and space, and who, when one lay dying, had been transformed into the two beaches shaped like doves, by a witch doctor on the island so they would never be separated.

Both the Doctor and Rose blushed when he had finished the story, Rose turning round to find another stone to skim, her pale cheeks burning red.

Some hours later, the sun began to slowly set over the beach opposite them. The Doctor had removed his coat and Converse; sat next to him was Rose, her head leaning on his shoulder as she watched the sunset. Her feet had buried themselves in the soft, wet sand, and the white water lapped at her ankles. The Doctor lent back on his arms.

"Don't you wish you could just stay here forever. I mean, the running around like a maniac is great," Rose laughed, "but this is just heavenly."

"You mean you prefer relaxation to endless danger and life-threatening monsters?" the Doctor chuckled. After a long pause, uncomfortable with the silence, he began to explain why the water was snow-coloured, but Rose laughingly shushed him.

"Just enjoy the view, Doctor!"

"Right, yes, sorry…" He smiled. Sitting on a beach, the most beautiful girl in the universe resting beside him – _forget you ever thought that! _– watching a sunset. _How very ordinary_. _How very human_.

He looked down at Rose. _And how perfect_.


	3. Chapter 3

**This story took longer than I hoped, what with the new year and all - and happy new year to all of you :) **

**Enjoy, dear Reader,**

**L_M_D**

_On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree..._

"Paris!" the Doctor exclaimed, holding open the door for Rose. She'd dressed for the occasion in a rather pretty black dress, the Doctor had noticed, with a faux fur shawl draped around her shoulders.

The stepped out into the busy street. Rose grinned. Ever since she'd told the Doctor that she'd never been to Paris, he'd been promising to take her. And it was as gorgeous as she'd hoped.

The bright autumn day wasn't marred by the slightly cooling breeze. In fact, Rose was glad of it as they made their way through the packed streets, before settling down in a traditional café that the Doctor had declared as "perfect".

Rose had finished a ridiculously beautiful hot chocolate and left the Doctor "human-watching" as he called it, whilst she nipped to the Ladies. On her way back, she was surprised; she couldn't find the Doctor. She glanced where they had been sitting but there were four people on that table – three women and one man. She squinted to get a better look. It _was _the Doctor. The Doctor and three (remarkably attractive, she now noted) young women. A boil of rage and something like humiliation began rolling in her stomach.

She marched over there and demanded sarcastically to be introduced to the Doctor's _friends_.

"Oh!" he blushed bright red. "Rose this is Jeanette, Renée, and Adelaide." He pointed at each woman in turn. All three giggled.

"Is it now?" she asked pointedly. The Doctor didn't (or pretended not to) hear her. She flopped into the remaining seat grumpily.

Jeanette took a sip of her espresso, Renée took a drag on her cigarette and Adelaide, the worst of the three, Rose decided, was engaged in a low conversation with the Doctor. A conversation which involved far too many arm touches and giggles.

"Is this your wife?" she heard her ask him.

"No! not at all…"

The conversation got too low to hear, and Rose turned bright red, anger and embarrassment combining to create what she suspected was a highly unflattering shade. She cast a swift look at the other women. Renée, or Jeanette, or whichever, the only other blonde: platinum hair long enough to sit on and straightened to within an inch of its life. _Has to be from a bottle_ she thought unkindly. The other one, Jeanette she supposed, was watching Adelaide's conversation with the Doctor with nearly as much interest as Rose. Her copper hair curled elegantly at the neck. Adelaide, the one the Doctor just so happened to be leaning rather close to, pushing his glasses more firmly onto his nose, had short hair, jet black, flicked slightly to one side.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed, a flash of genius overcoming her. "Aren't you forgetting the _tickets_ to that _thing_ that we're going to?!"

The Doctor just gave her a befuddled look; one that said both _we don't have tickets_ and also _plus if we do, I have a time machine remember?_

So Rose began chattering away over the top of Adelaide and the others, referring to many inside jokes and laughing rather too hysterically. When this elicited little to no response, other than a pitying look from the French girls, she flopped back in her chair and sent several imaginary text messages, practising her moody look as she did so.

Rose, the Doctor realised, was acting in a slightly peculiar manner. He continued his conversation about Aristotle half-heartedly as he attempted to figure out what was wrong with his companion.

Rose watched the Doctor and his new _friends_ over the top of her mobile. All three of the women were leaning forward, hooked on his every word, ample cleavage showing. First Madam du Pompadour and now these three. He really did have a thing for French women.

She chewed on the edge of a nail. Then she noticed Adelaide's perfect French manicure, and stopped immediately.

After another fifteen minutes in which the Doctor flirted, giggled and was flirted with and giggled at, Rose got up, and walked away.

The Doctor immediately got up to follow, but was stopped by the pouting Adelaide tugging at the edge of his tan coat, insisting that he should not go, he should go with them and have another drink (_and plenty more_, it was implied). The Doctor brushed them off and ran after Rose, forgetting, in his haste, to say goodbye.

"Rose!" He shouted. "Rose, wait!" He blessed Gallifrey that this regeneration was young and fit and had relatively long legs. "Rose!" He caught up with her, grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to turn back to him.

She would not look at him, Rose told herself. Instead she stared hard at the concrete by his feet. If that concrete ever was alive, the Doctor reasoned, it was definitely dead now. He took a moment to be thankful that look wasn't directed at him. It would have stopped both his hearts.

He enfolded her into a hug, and despite herself, Rose felt tears forming.

"What's the matter, Rose?"

"N-nothin'…" she hiccoughed.

"Rose?" his voice was soft, and she couldn't help but look at him.

"Oh it's just those French… _hens_… throwing themselves at… I mean, ignoring me…." She went back to staring at the concrete.

"_Hens?_" He couldn't help but ask.

"Shu' up." She sniffled into his coat.

Both his hearts plummeted. She was crying. Or close enough. So he hugged her tighter, for once at a loss for words as it dawned on him what she'd meant. She was _jealous_. He couldn't help allowing himself a small smile of pride before addressing her.

"Anyway, enough about that. We've got all of Paris to see." He straightened up, and began walking off slowly. Rose stared at his back in disbelief. Bloody _alien_!

He turned back.

"Oh and Rose, I don't think I managed to tell you before we got waylaid. But you look… well…" he blushed slightly. He'd wanted this to sound much more romantic. "Beautiful." He settled for. "Just… beautiful."

She smiled at him faintly, walked up to him and took the hand he offered.

"Now," he continued. "All of Paris. Where do you want to start?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: the following contains a very fluffy ending. I feel like I'm made of candyfloss after writing this! (Sorry it's taken so long, assignments are looming). **

**Hopefully it won't take me so long next time! **

**Enjoy, Reader :) **

**L_M_D**

_On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree..._

The Doctor and Rose were relaxing in the TARDIS lounge, on a rare bit of down time from chasing aliens, running away from aliens, and generally interacting with anyone except the two of them.

A comfortable silence had fallen some minutes ago. The Doctor perused a book they'd picked up in an alien mall some weeks ago; Rose had closed her eyes and was starting to nod off.

No screaming. No running. No dying. Rose had forgotten what it was to relax. Just a warm room, a comfortable chair, the distant sound of birdsong….

_Hang on_. She thought. _What?_

She strained to listen. Definitely birdsong. She nudged the Doctor with a foot.

"What?" he asked, slightly disgruntled.

"I can hear birds. Like tweeting and stuff!"

"I think you're dreaming!" he laughed.

He stopped short suddenly as from close by came the unmistakeable twittering.

"Rose? I think I can hear _birds_ on the TARDIS!"

"You don't say?" Rose rolled her eyes sarcastically, and stood up. "Come on then, we better go and have a look."

They crept quietly down the halls. It would have been silent except for Rose's occasional interjections about how she was finally enjoying a day of _peace and_ _flipping quiet_…

The Doctor hushed her as he stopped outside a seemingly arbitrary door. He opened it to reveal… a broom cupboard.

"Really, Doctor?" Rose raised a teasing eyebrow.

"Just hold on a second, I think I've got something…." The rest of the sentence was muffled as the Doctor stuck his head in the cupboard and rummaged around.

He pulled himself upright, a triumphant grin on his face.

"There!" he said proudly. In his hand was a net, the kind you might see a cartoon character catching butterflies with. Rose suspected it was actually taller than her.

"Come on!" The Doctor took Rose by the hand, dragging her along the corridor.

They crept along silently as the twittering grew louder. Turning into a short corridor, they saw it… a small starling was hopping and pecking hopefully along the floor. The Doctor turned to Rose and raised a finger to his lips, before turning back and, taking exaggeratedly quiet steps, moved towards the bird.

Unfortunately, the tiny bird outwitted the 900 year old Time Lord, and flew away, cueing much laughter from Rose as the Doctor ran after it, waving the net wildly and shouting.

Three hours later and three starlings had successfully been caught and released into the Cardiff countryside. The Doctor had found Rose an extra net, and the pair had split up, each searching for the elusive fourth bird. They could hear its call, but every time they thought they'd found it, the tweeting reappeared from another part of the TARDIS. The Doctor was beginning to think his old machine was playing tricks on them…

Rose crept silently along one corridor, sides still aching from laughing with the Doctor as they caught the third bird. The tweeting was definitely getting louder; she couldn't wait to see the Doctor's face when she showed him the final starling, nestled in the little carry box she was holding. It would serve him right for not believing her at first. Her back to the TARDIS wall, she peered slowly around a corner. _There it was_! Contentedly hopping along the floor, just like the first one, occasionally letting out a happy note. She gathered herself together, prepared her net, and flung herself around the corner, desperate to catch it so she could go back to nodding off on the couch.

She collided with the Doctor at full speed, and both of them crashed to the TARDIS floor, legs, arms and nets tangled.

"Oooft! Bloody hell, Doctor, what are _you _doing here?!"

"Trying to catch that starling, what are _you_ doing here?!"

"Same… Where is it?"

From their slightly uncomfortable vantage point they tried, unsuccessfully, to locate the bird.

"Bloomin' gone now that you great lumps gone and scared it off!"

"I've scared it off? You were the one waving your net about like I don't know what!" The Doctor turned his face to look at Rose, before realising he was half laying on top of her and quickly moving to extricate himself from the tangle, muttering about how he must be too heavy.

She blushed and pushed herself slightly more upright.

The Doctor offered her a hand, and pulled her upright. They stood awkwardly blushing for a moment.

"Thanks…" Rose said, eventually.

"It's okay…" he went to ruffle a hand through his already dishevelled hair. It was only then that he realised he was still holding on to Rose.

To the surprise of both of them, he didn't let go.

"Let's umm.. let's go get a cuppa, shall we?" he grinned slightly.

"Yeah," Rose nodded. "Tea sounds good… But what about the bird?"

"Oh, he'll be okay. I'm sure we'll find him later."

Rose nodded again, and they walked towards the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5

**I appear to have been invaded by a fluff-monster. This one is even more fluffy than the last. But I love it, so there xD thanks to all who are following etc., I hope you're enjoying them as much as I'm enjoying writing them! (It comes as a welcome change from Victorian literature, anyway :P ) I'm very aware that it's fast becoming very much not Christmas, but it's my favourite time of year, so I'm rather enjoying extending it a little!**

**So here we are, number 5 :) **

**As always, Reader, enjoy...**

**L_M_D**

_On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me five gold rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree..._

The cries of hawkers filled the warm, still air. Rose and the Doctor strolled arm in arm, occasionally stopping and browsing a particularly interesting stall. No running, the Doctor had promised her. Absolutely no running. A day shopping in some unpronounceable planet's famous market, followed by watching the annual carnival on the beach. That seemed pretty much like heaven.

And so far, so good. Rose had brought several alien objects as gifts for her mother, including one slightly odd looking object that was meant to give you the most blissful massage of your life. The Doctor had purchased an old book, and a beautiful shawl made out of the most exquisite blue silk-like material, which he had draped around Rose's shoulders with a smile.

They wandered to the next stall, which lots of people had crowded around. Once a space opened up, Rose could see why.

Jewellery made of the most beautiful metal Rose had ever seen was spread on a red cloth. The metal shone silver and blue, purple tints glinting in the direct sunlight. She couldn't help let out a sigh of longing as her eye was drawn to a bracelet made of five interlinking rings.

The Doctor saw that look in her eye, and laughed.

"What?" she grinned. "It is beautiful…"

"You and your jewellery. Fine!" he smiled, waving over the somewhat stressed looking attendant. "We'll take this one!"

The man smiled broadly and congratulated them on an excellent choice. He carefully wrapped up the bracelet in soft paper, and gave it to the Doctor, smiling in a disconcertingly knowing way.

The Doctor brushed off the man's oddness and tucked it into an inside pocket of his jacket as Rose squealed and hugged him as a thank you.

A few hours later and the pair were happily ensconced between a seemingly endless procession of happy couples, seated on the wall overlooking the beach. The carnival was due to start any minute. Rose looked about her happily, munching on what passed for a chip on this planet. Nothing like the salt and vinegar infused potato goodness she was used to on Earth – in fact, it had a faintly bubblegum flavour – but it was yummy nonetheless. As yet another couple walked in front of them, trying to find a space on the wall, Rose noticed the presence of a familiar looking bracelet on the woman's arm. It wasn't quite the same, she realised, but the interlocking rings were unmistakeable.

"Hey, Doctor," she nudged her companion. "Look, loads of people have got those bracelet things on!"

"Maybe you should wear yours?" he suggested, wondering if it was a local custom to wear them to the carnival. He pulled the delicately wrapped package from his coat pocket and handed it to her to undo. She unwrapped it carefully, not wanting to rip any of the beautiful paper. She smiled, finally releasing it and sliding it onto her arm. Flinging her arms around him she thanked him profusely once more, grinning at the sight of it over his shoulder. In the dying light, it's purplish tints glimmered brightly.

The Doctor was somewhat abruptly cut short from his enjoyment of Rose's hug by an almighty pat on the back from the nearest gentleman. This was, he gathered from the cheerful grin on the man's face, and the continuation of these pats from various other members of the crowd, meant to be congratulatory. Rose, too had been variously assaulted by female members of the crowd, most if not all of whom were also wearing variations on the five-ringed bracelet.

It was only sometime later, when they had been borne aloft by the crowd, along with several other couples who appeared to be sitting back and enjoying the ride, that the Doctor remembered a curious bit of knowledge about the planet that had somehow failed to register when he suggested it to Rose. It occurred to him, as he watched with something akin to awe the brightly and beautifully decorated parade that he appeared to now be a part of, that the carnival was a celebration of loyalty, of friendship, and, most importantly, of true love.

The inhabitants of the planet he'd quite innocently suggested they shopped on, believed in a five-point reincarnation process, he explained to Rose much later, as they returned to the TARDIS. You are given, the religion goes, five lives to find your soulmate, or _soul of my heart_ as their word translates to. To find your soulmate indicates a reward, as in the usual phraseology of a Promised Land or Heaven. To fail to do indicates a purgatory of wandering the planet, in stasis between life and death, bewailing your loss. Of course, just a children's ghost story, the Doctor rationalised.

Nowadays it had taken a more literal meaning, as things often do. The five rings were the five lives. To give or to receive a bracelet indicated your declaration of having found your soulmate. It was, essentially, he explained, an engagement ring.

Rose did have to wonder, later that night, as she dressed for bed, carefully laying her bracelet on the bedside table, quite _why _the Doctor had decided to explain this, rather cheerfully, only after the culmination of the carnival. After a good couple of hours of processions, dancing, music and general revelry, the couples watching from raised chairs, they were presented with wreaths of flowers, which they placed on their heads. The Doctor and Rose had followed suit, trying desperately not to annoy any of the planet's inhabitants (a knack which they hadn't quite mastered so far), the crowd dispersed, and the couples all took their cues to whisper private happiness to one another.

The sun had almost set, it taking an uncommonly long time on this particular day of the year, and in the last glow of the dying light, the Doctor had pulled her close to him, lifted her chin up with one hand, and given her a look of such intensity that Rose had blushed. Noticing the activities of the other couples, Rose's breathing rapidly getting out of control as he just _wouldn't stop looking at her like that_... As he brushed her lips with his, Rose felt a rush of emotion, so unexpectedly constricting around her heart that she forgot, for a moment, how to breathe. The kiss was soft and felt so full of promise, that even in bed that night the echo of it haunted her lips.

_He was just fitting in_, she reasoned. _We both were. Trying not to get in trouble with everyone, like we normally do_.

In the console room, the Doctor kicked off his Converse, shrugged off his jacket and sat down, staring hard at the console for a moment before running a hand through his hair. As he brought it down, he paused for a moment at his lips, touching them softly. The ghost of her presence there still tingled.

_Get a hold of yourself, man_. He told himself. _It's just a bracelet. And besides…If she felt the same… She knows. She must know_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay okay, this one has taken me absolutely ages! I can only apologize, I was completely stuck on what to do for this one! The following is the best idea I could come up with. There's only minor fluff in this one too ;) **

**I'm kind of hoping they're not too same-y. This is a bit of a challenge for me as I usually write multi-chap fics with more of a defined plot and arc; so if these are too similar I apologize. I'm trying to improve my one-shot-ing xD**

**Thank you to all those who are following this little series of drabbles xD - and especially Sebastian Max for your lovely review :D :D **

**As always, dear Reader, enoy**

**For now,**

**L_M_D**

_On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: six geese a-laying, five gold rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree..._

"Doctorrrrr…" Rose sing-songed as she shuffled into the TARDIS console room, where the object of her pleading sat tinkering with some buttons.

"What do you want?" he grinned at her.

"I don't want anything!" she protested, reaching him and pulling him into a cuddle.

"Yes, you do…"

"Well, it was _just _a thought, but I was dreaming last night about when I was younger, and I remembered how much I used to _love _feeding the ducks…."

"Feeding ducks? Why on Gallifrey would you want to feed ducks?" he asked, puzzled.

"Because they're cute! _Especially _when they're tiny lickle ducklings! They're adorable!" She giggled.

"No, no they're not!" he insisted. "Ducks bite!"

"How can they bite they don't even have a proper mouth!"

He gave her a mysterious look, as if to say "you don't know anything, Rose Tyler."

But she pushed out her bottom lip and stroked a hand down his arm as she begged,

He relented, and ten minutes later, Rose had dug out some bread from the kitchen, and they were walking, hand in hand, through a country meadow.

A small river ran by one end, and the Doctor seated himself on an appropriately placed bench as Rose teetered on the edge of the bank, giggling to herself and insisting that he should join her as she threw small handfuls of crumbs to the ever-increasing crowd of ducks.

The Doctor closed his eyes and basked for a moment in the warm sunshine. He was awoken from his reverie by Rose suddenly whispering, very close to his ear:

"Come with me, I have to show you something."

Unable to resist, he took her proffered hand and she led him a small way down the riverbank. Amongst a clump of reeds a nest of twigs and grass held six tiny, baby geese. Their fluffy yellow down was turning brown on their backs. Rose was babbling on at the cuteness of their small friends, and even the Doctor had to admit that they were quite sweet.

The goslings grew braver and one plucky young chick waddled over to Rose and made a show of pecking at the ground near her where she crouched.

"Well aren't you just the cutest thing?!" she exclaimed softly, reaching into the bread bag and scattering some crumbs near the baby. Encouraged by this show of generosity, another brave young goose toddled over, hunting over the same ground as its sibling, engaging in a struggle for the remaining crumb or two.

Entranced with her new favourite creatures Rose soon gave away all of the bread, and was rewarded by a veritable crowd of goslings. The first, bravest chick had even condescended to allow her to pick him up, and was sat, quite comfortably, on her hand, which she kept close to the ground for safety.

Rose looked at the Doctor, her bright eyes shining with delight, and he allowed himself to think that maybe feeding the ducks wasn't such a bad idea after all, if it made his Rose smile so widely.

He was once again interrupted from his reverie, not, this time, by a whisper by his soft blonde-haired companion, but by a very loud _HONK!_

The chick in Rose's hand leapt off, and all six tiny geese hurried back to the safety of their nests. Rose and the Doctor stood and turned, only to find themselves confronted with a very angry looking mummy Goose.

_HONK!_ It squawked at them again.

"Hey it's cool," Rose said in an attempt to placate the animal. "We were just giving the babies some food."

She put out her arms in a "we're backing off" gesture.

The goose craned her neck forward and bit Rose on the hand.

"Ow!" she cried, looking livid.

The Doctor took her by the other hand and gently led her away, fearful that Rose would attempt to get into a slanging match with the goose.

By the time they reached the TARDIS, Rose was clutching her hand to her chest in a look of utter outrage. He sat her down on a seat in the console room and crouched in front of her.

"Let me see?"

She unfolded her hand. He tenderly held her fingers as he inspected the bruise just forming.

"You'll live." He laughed. "But I did tell you that ducks bite."

"That was a goose," she said indignantly.

The Doctor just laughed at her.

"It really hurt!" Rose insisted. This, however, made him laugh more, so she pouted until he stopped (which took an uncharitably long time, she thought).

Once he'd finished laughing at her outrage, he bent over her hand once more. Without thinking (or so he told himself later), he lightly kissed the developing bruise.

A breath caught in Rose's throat (for which she mentally kicked herself later), which snapped him back into reality.

Babbling on nineteen to the dozen, he began to press as many buttons on the console as looked appealing.

As he set the coordinates for their next stop, Rose remained seated as she had been, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.


End file.
